Slouching Towards Bethlehem
by wishnik
Summary: Voldemort I:  Remus is confronted about being the spy, Lily and James need a Secret Keeper, Peter is playing Judas, and Sirius just wants to wake up from this nightmare he's living.  SBRL slash, JPLE, not canon compliant.  Rated for language and violence.
1. The Widening Gyre

A first attempt at writing for the Harry Potter fandom, after having been a rabid follower for years. Just an idea I've been toying with for awhile. Takes place during Voldemort I, and is definitely not compliant with most of canon, being that Lily and James will not end up dying. Focuses on what might have happened had Remus been confronted about being the spy, and if Dumbledore had become the Potter's Secret-Keeper. Mostly revolves around the SLASH relationship between Sirius/Remus.

After several revisions, I'm not still not completely happy with this chapter, but it will have to do, because I'll go insane if I have to look at it one more time. Apologies if the characters seem OOC at times. Some of it is intentional, while the rest is due to my own inability to write them accurately. Sirius cries a lot. I'm not sure why, exactly. Just thought I should warn you. And Remus is temperamental. Any spelling or grammatical errors are my own. I don't have a beta-reader (any takers?), and spell-check isn't always foolproof.

Story and chapter titles come from the W.B. Yeats poem 'The Second Coming'.

* * *

_Turning and turning in the widening gyre _

_The falcon cannot hear the falconer; _

_Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold; _

_Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world, _

_The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere _

_The ceremony of innocence is drowned; _

_The best lack all conviction, while the worst _

_Are full of passionate intensity. _

_Surely some revelation is at hand; _

_Surely the Second Coming is at hand. _

_The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out _

_When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi _

_Troubles my sight: a waste of desert sand; _

_A shape with lion body and the head of a man, _

_A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun, _

_Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it _

_Wind shadows of the indignant desert birds. _

_The darkness drops again but now I know _

_That twenty centuries of stony sleep _

_Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle, _

_And what rough beast, its hour come round at last, _

_Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?_

_**-W.B. Yeats; 'The Second Coming'**_

Remus Lupin was many things. Anyone who had attended school with him would agree that he was a scholar, a thinker. His friends would say that he was infuriatingly level-headed. He was patient. He was a werewolf, but those same friends would adamantly swear that that had nothing to do with his character.

Right now, Remus Lupin was tired.

He had just returned from briefing Dumbledore on a particularly unsuccessful mission to convince a pack of werewolves just outside Wiltshire to consider allying themselves with the Order. The jaunt had extended ten days past what he'd planned, and all that had been achieved was that the wolves weren't threatening to force-feed him his entrails anymore. To top it all off, he had cut it very close to the full moon-it was about two days away, and the frustrated, angry wolf in him was howling and clamoring for escape.

So. Remus believed that he had adequate cause for exhaustion.

Desiring nothing more than to take a hot bath and to then snuggle into his soft, warm bed (and into an equally soft, warm body), he started when he realized that the body in question was standing in the hallway leading to the bedroom.

"Moony?" Sirius Black's eyes widened with shock and the deepest sort of relief as he uttered his lover's name disbelievingly.

Seconds later, Remus found himself with an armful of Sirius as the dark-haired man caught him in a hard, slightly desperate embrace.

"Merlin-where the hell were-said you'd be-no idea how I've-so relieved you're not-" Sirius' incoherent babble, difficult to decipher on a good day, was altogether too much for Remus' frazzled mind to take at the moment. Prying the other wizard off of him with perhaps a tiny bit more force than was necessary, he mumbled,

"M'fine, Sirius."

Stunned silence. Remus winced, realizing that that might have been the wrong thing to say, considering the circumstances.

"You're fine. You're _fine._" There was a dangerous glint in Sirius' gray eyes as he laughed in an unconvincingly careless manner. "That's good, then. That's _fine._ Well, I'm chuffed, really. It's absolutely _brilliant _to know that while I've been waiting here, not knowing where you were and biting my nails to the quick because you're a _bloody _week-and-a-half late, you've been…fine." He was breathing heavily through his nose, a sure sign that Remus needed to perform some damage control, and fast.

"Look, Sirius," he stated with a calmness that he could not claim to feel, "the assignment ran longer than I expected it to. I didn't mean to make you worry, but I needed a little more time, and it's not as though I had plenty of chances to owl."

"A little more time is a day. Two, at most," Sirius said through clenched teeth. "Ten days is when the people who love you start thinking that the Dark side's turned you into werewolf treacle tart."

"I know, believe me I know. It's difficult for everyone involved. But I thought that if I gave it a few extra days-" Remus hastily amended his statement at the other man's pointed glare "-okay, ten extra days, the other werewolves might begin to come around."

This seemed to slightly mollify Sirius.

"And did they?" he questioned, the hysterical edge fading from his voice. "Come around?" Remus sighed heavily.

"No. I don't think they did, not really. A scattered few seemed receptive to the idea of trusting our side, but I'm not sure if it left any sort of lasting impression."

"So then it was all for nothing?" The hysteria found its way back into Sirius' voice. "Those ten extra days were absolutely useless?!"

Quite fed up now, the wolf snarling at the surface, Remus found himself rolling his eyes.

"Can we possibly save the row for tomorrow, when I'm up for it?" he asked impatiently. "I'm not in the mood for a discussion right now, because quite frankly, it's been a very rough three-and-a-half weeks and I'm completely knackered."

"Oh come off it, Remus!" Sirius was using the werewolf's given name, which could only mean trouble. "You're _never_ in the mood for a discussion anymore. You barely tell me anything. D'you really think that you're the only one who's having a bad go of it? I mean, I can barely leave work for hours at a time anymore without being called back in because one of us has been murdered or Death Eaters are on the attack again. The Order's losing members left and right-and-and James and Lily were attacked just last week by Voldemort _himself_!"

It was clear that this was the matter that was truly bothering Sirius, because he looked stricken as he said the words, as if he didn't really believe them even though he knew that they were true.

Remus felt his insides curl unpleasantly and go icy cold.

"Are they alright?" he asked waveringly.

"For now," Sirius answered, angrily swiping away tears that he didn't realize had fallen during his tirade. "Soon as James realized the Death Eaters were on their way he caught me on the two-way mirror. I sent Moody a Patronus to let him know what was happening. Lucky that Longbottom and his wife-Alice, you know-were with me. We Apparated over and were able to hold off the Death Eaters until Moody got there with reinforcements."

"It was just you, James, Lily, Frank and Alice by _yourselves_ against _Voldemort_?" Remus said sharply.

"Actually, we got Alice to Apparate out again with Harry-take him to a safer place-so really it was just James, Lily, Frank and me. But to tell the truth, Voldemort seemed content to let the Death Eaters handle the fight. From what little I could see, he appeared sort of…preoccupied, and then just vanished while everyone was still in the thick of things. Mind you," Sirius added darkly, "I was preoccupied myself, dodging Unforgivables and the like, so I could be completely off-base. After Moody showed up with other members of the Order, the Death Eaters apparently decided that it wasn't worth their skin if their lord and master wasn't around to watch the battle, so they beat a hasty retreat."

"Everyone's all right, then?"

"Yes, they're _okay,_ relatively speaking, but Remus, that's not the point. This is the third fucking time that it's happened in however many months. Dumbledore's talking about sending James, Lily and Harry into hiding, he reckons there's a spy in the Order. The Ministry is scrambling-not least of all because its employees are being murdered in scores-everything's falling apart here and sometimes it just gets really hard to cope with this on my own."

Sirius pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. "You wouldn't even recognize James anymore, he's so grim and serious, but at least he's got Lily and Harry, and I _know _that it's selfish, Merlin I know, but sometimes I just wish that you could be _here _because I really need you."

After this diatribe, Remus stood there, not quite knowing what to do, just trying to process all of the information that had just been handed to him. Irritation forgotten, wolf temporarily quiet, he stared at Sirius (who'd dropped his hands to his side once more), taking in the other man's appearance.

He looked like hell, not to put too fine a point on it. The glossy, jet-black hair that he was usually so vain about was tousled and messy. There were dark circles under his eyes courtesy of countless sleepless nights, and his almost ever-present air of cheerful mischief-maker had been replaced by loneliness and defeat.

So there was not much else Remus could do but wrap his arms around Sirius, offering the only comfort he knew to give. His lover responded in kind, snaking his own arms tightly around the werewolf's mid-section. (Remus was left again to marvel at the two-inch height advantage he had received from a late bout of puberty-it irritated Sirius to no end that Remus was taller than he was).

"I'm sorry for chucking all of this on you at once," came Sirius' voice, muffled because his face was pressed against Remus' shoulder. "But it's frustrating, because I go mad worrying about you all the time, even though I know that what you're doing is important to the Order."

"I understand," Remus said quietly. "I really do, because I worry about you too. My blood runs cold every time I hear that there's been another attack on the Ministry, or that another Auror's dead. And it kills me to constantly leave you alone with all of this, but I'm literally the only one who can do what I do for the Order. Dumbledore's trusting me with this, and I can't take that lightly."

"I s'pose I understand," Sirius said, echoing the other man's words. "And even though I don't like feeling like a bloody war bride, I'm glad you're home safe now."

"That makes two of us," the sandy-haired man stated dryly. "Anyways, it should be awhile before my next assignment, so…"

The fact that Sirius was dressed for bed, wearing only a thin white tee-shirt and sweatpants had not escaped Remus' notice, and was in fact driving him to distraction. Sirius lifted his head and smiled up lazily. His reply of 'So what?' was cut off before it even left his mouth by Remus' lips on his.

_Not _that he was complaining. It had been far, far too long since they had had physical intimacy of any sort, and he was drowning in smoldering kisses and the feel of the werewolf's long, hard body molded to the contours of his.

For Remus, it was a chance for the wolf to channel his aggression in an entirely different and certainly more pleasurable way. Impassioned kisses gave way to frantic groping and tugging, and before either of them were even really conscious of it, they were sprawled over the kitchen table, Sirius pulling frantically at Remus' shirt and whimpering while the werewolf pushed at the elastic waistband of the sweatpants, one hand firmly tangled in Sirius' already mussed black hair. It was absolute ecstasy for the contact-starved men.

However, just as Remus was about to suggest that they take this into the bedroom, a loud popping noise interrupted the pair's activities. Both stared in stunned silence at a perfectly unperturbed looking Albus Dumbledore, who promptly turned around to allow them some time to compose themselves.

"I do apologize for the intrusion upon your privacy," he said, back to the two, "but there was a matter of utmost urgency that I needed to discuss with Remus."

Sirius' mouth hung open, not having moved past the bit where Albus Dumbledore ACTUALLY Apparated in on…well, what he had Apparated in on.

"This is some horrific hallucination," he groaned into Remus' neck. "That's all there is to it. Just an awful trick of the mind." But Remus was standing up now, straightening his clothing and attempting to make himself a bit more presentable, and it became quite clear to Sirius that this was not a hellish vision, but reality.

Suffice to say that that did not make him feel any better.

Passion reluctantly abandoned, they both stood, waiting patiently as the headmaster turned around to face them again. Remus coughed embarrassedly.

"You wanted to speak with me, sir?" he questioned with forced nonchalance.

"I did," nodded Dumbledore.

Sensing that this was probably not a conversation meant for his ears, Sirius grudgingly said (while vaguely wondering when he'd become an housewife),

"Why don't you use the living room and I'll…er…I'll just make some tea."

"That would be excellent, Sirius, thank you." Dumbledore beamed as Remus led him out of the kitchen and into the living room of the flat. Sirius glared murderously at the older wizard's back.

"What's this about?" Remus inquired wearily, opting to stand instead of sit on the couch. "I didn't miss anything in my report earlier tonight?"

"No, nothing like that," Dumbledore replied. "It would not be remiss to say, however, that my news is related to the mission you recently undertook." Interest piqued, the werewolf stared at the other man, whose face became a little graver with the weight of the information that he was about to impart. "The werewolf pack that you just spent time with is meeting with Lord Voldemort tonight at midnight."

"What?!" Remus' eyes narrowed. "True, they weren't very receptive at all to what I had to say, but they didn't give any indication that their allegiance ran with Voldemort either."

"One of my sources has just informed me that several key Death Eaters have been speaking in secret with the pack leaders. Voldemort is offering them rights and freedoms that have been denied them by the Ministry and all of the wizarding world. It isn't surprising that they would prefer his 'instant' fix to slow, painful legal steps."

"Do you want me to go to the meeting?"

"Quite the opposite." Dumbledore's eyes glinted with a hint of steel. "You are to go nowhere near that meeting. The only reason that I am speaking to you of it now is so that you might steer clear of that particular pack until we are more certain of their intentions following this gathering."

"But what if I can convince some of them not to attend?" Remus asked desperately. "I know that at least one or two of them might be swayed. If I could just try to-"

"Remus, it is admirable that you are so dedicated to the cause and to the Order. But it will do us absolutely no good if you are at that meeting and a Death Eater recognizes you as one of ours and decides to kill you," Dumbledore stated firmly.

"If I don't allow myself to be seen-Headmaster, what if I could come away with valuable information about Voldemort's plans?!" Remus asked desperately, unable to comprehend that Dumbledore could just allow something such as this to happen, something that the werewolf had put so much effort into preventing.

"I very much doubt that. This visit is to ally himself to the werewolves, not to map out strategies and locales. It is probable that he will merely feed them tales of equality-superiority, even-power, and their long-denied rights."

The wolf, awakened once again by Lupin's frustrations, roared within his chest.

"But how do you know?" he challenged.

"I do not know," Dumbledore admitted, staring sternly over his crescent moon glasses. "Just as I do not know whether or not the werewolves apart from their pack leaders will be swayed to Voldemort's side. However, even if I were aware of what the outcome of this meeting will be, I would not send you, Remus, because you are in no condition for it. You are exhausted after weeks of difficult work, and asking you to take such a risk while you are not at your best is a potentially fatal mistake."

"Then don't ask," offered Remus quietly. "I'm volunteering." Dumbledore stared at him for what seemed like a very long time.

"Tea's ready." Sirius' grumpy voice interrupted the what was almost a silent standoff between the two men.

"I am afraid that I will have to take mine on the go, Sirius," the headmaster said briskly. "I've another matter that requires my present attention." Accepting the proffered mug, he nodded his thanks at the Animagus, and returned his gaze to Remus.

"Remember my orders, Remus," he said sternly. Then, in a softer tone, "Sometimes, we become so consumed by protecting the faceless masses that we forget about the individuals we care the most for." It may have been a trick of the light, but the headmaster's eyes seemed to flicker towards Sirius for the merest of seconds. The words only served to incense the sandy-haired man further, however, and he glared furiously as Dumbledore Apparated out with a crack.

Sirius, mystified, stared in the older man's wake.

"Mad, he is," he said, shaking his head. Noticing his lover's rancor, he reached out to the werewolf, only to have him flinch away. Hurt, Sirius folded his arms across his chest. "What'd Dumbledore say to get your knickers in a twist?"

"Nothing," muttered Remus. "Just…nothing."

"_Obviously_," Sirius replied in a voice dryer than a drought in the desert.

"Leave it, Sirius." Irate, Remus made his way back into the kitchen, seeking a momentary reprieve from the other wizard's prying eyes.

"I won't bloody well leave it, not when it's got you in such a foul mood." Sirius' mouth was uncharacteristically pressed in a thin, trembling white line. "So how long'll it be this time, then? A week? Two-and-a-half? Two-and-a-half and ten days?"

Remus struggled to contain his temper, thwarted as he was by the howling beast so close to the surface.

"You'll be pleased to know that Dumbledore considers me unfit for duty at this time," he ground out. "It is likely that he will not require my services for a while to come."

"Do try to contain your own happiness, Moony," Sirius said scathingly. "Overjoyed just doesn't suit your complexion."

"Can you at least _attempt_ to understand how crucial this work is to me and to the Order? _Try_ to see past your own needs and loneliness in order to get the bigger picture of what it is I am doing?" Remus asked in a dangerously low tone.

"What I _see,_" Sirius retorted recklessly, ignoring the threatening signs, "is a man who refuses to realize that he is completely overworked and near-collapse with all of the stress that he places on himself. I fail to _understand_ how anyone in the Order will benefit from the _crucial_ tasks that you take on should you get killed or captured through the negligence that comes with utter exhaustion!"

By the time he was finished speaking, his voice had elevated to a shout. "And you're being a right git about it, too!" he added for good measure.

"Excuse me, but this git is trying to help fight a _war!_ And the more people that we can ally to our side, the better! Being tired is a small price to pay, if I can convince as many werewolves as possible to join the fight against Voldemort!" Remus was now matching Sirius in volume.

"Bollocks! You know that's only part of it! The other part of it is the bloody martyr complex that no one can convince you to get rid of. Half the reason you're so eager to meet with the werewolves is that on some fucked up level of your consciousness, you feel like that's where you _belong,_ that you're not worthy of 'human' company, that the other wolves are your _equals-_"

In later hours-days, years-Remus would never be able to determine what his snapping point had been.

All Sirius would say after that night was that he hadn't seen it coming, before clamming up and refusing to speak of the matter anymore.

In any case, neither of them had expected Remus to lash out and backhand his lover with all of the force and rage that came with being two days from the full moon, and frustrated in more ways than one.

The blow was strong enough to send Sirius stumbling towards the table that less than half-an-hour ago they had been snogging on. He crashed into, and then steadied himself, on the edge of it.

For several long, terrible minutes there was nothing but stunned silence.

Remus, instantly drained of every ounce of considerable rage he may have possessed mere moments ago, was the first to speak.

"Sirius-damn-I didn't mean-I just-are you-Merlin, I can't believe-" Deathly white, he couldn't seem to make himself to speak in proper sentences, and all that came out was a garbled heap of horrified, discontinued thoughts.

"You hit me," Sirius said in an impossibly small voice, sounding like he didn't quite believe it himself. Straightening and looking up with the slow, jerky movements of one who has just endured a rather nasty shock, he removed his hand from the side of his face where he'd been struck. A glaring red mark stood out from the rest of the skin on his right cheek, along with a very slight trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth. Nauseated, all Remus could think to say was,

"I-I know." He realized that he should come up with something more-an expression of shock, concern, maybe a goddamn apology-but he was unable to form cohesive thought.

"It hurt," Sirius continued with that same disbelieving air.

"I'm sorry." The room seemed to be closing in on Remus, the walls coming together until there was nothing but Sirius, him and the thing he had just done. "Merlin, I'm so sorry-I need to-I have to go." He needed air, he needed time to think, he needed to escape this horrible, cloying guilty feeling that intensified for every lingering second that he stared at that red mark. The red mark that he had made.

"Go?" Sirius asked. He seemed startled. "Go where?"

"Just-anywhere," Remus muttered. "For a walk."

"You can't just go for a walk-it's dark out-it's DANGEROUS-"

"I don't care!" Remus cut Sirius off in an instant. "I can't stay here right now, I need to clear my head, I just-I don't care." Such was his hurry to escape his present circumstances that he forgot his coat as he slammed out the door, leaving Sirius alone and near to tears.

"What if I do?" he whispered to no one at all.


	2. Things Fall Apart

Right. Back with new chapter. I'm trying to stay ahead of myself by having the next chapter completed when I post current chapters, so it takes a little while (especially since for a while I thought that chapter three was lost and that I'd have to start it completely over from scratch, ack). I'm not wholly satisfied with this part (I keep getting this niggling feeling that there are many plot holes and inconsistencies, which is why I should find a beta quickly), but I've combed it over several times, so any grammar/spelling/punctuation issues should be minimal. If you're reading this, and you find something you need to point out, please, PLEASE inform me. Constructive criticism keeps me diligent, and it's always good to have eyes other than your own watching out for mistakes.

Warnings: Language (which I guess you should expect already), mild slash (if you're on chapter two, I assume you know that too), and, er...some OOCness, I suppose. I can never tell if my characterization is anywhere close to what it should be.

Story and chapter titles are taken from the W.B. Yeats poem "The Second Coming". So they're not mine. Nor is anything even remotely to do with Harry Potter.

* * *

In the fifteen minutes since Remus had walked out, Sirius had applied ice to the side of his face (he was rubbish at healing himself), attempted to sip at his lukewarm tea, and took twenty-five peeks out the window for signs of his AWOL lover. Checking anywhere outside of the apartment was about useless if Remus decided to Apparate back, but it gave Sirius something to occupy himself with. Otherwise he would be forced to face the considerable tumult of thoughts and feelings roiling around within him in regards to the night's events.

That was a confrontation that the young Auror was not particularly looking forward to, and so he did his best to stave it off for as long as possible.

Sirius was perched nervously on the sofa, tapping his wand against the coffee table impatiently and contemplating actually going out and searching for Remus when the second and third uninvited visitors of the evening appeared in front of him with a crack. Leaping to his feet in surprise, thinking at first that it might be the werewolf, he opened his mouth to let loose the stream of angry/anxious words that had been building up following the other man's abrupt departure.

And promptly shut it again, when he realized that it was not, in fact, Remus.

"Prongs? Lily?" Baffled, Sirius took in the pair. "What're you doing here, and without the little nipper?"

"Sorry to just barge in, Sirius," Lily greeted him apologetically. "But there's something we needed to talk to you about, and it really couldn't wait." James just stared at his best friend.

"Bloody hell, mate. What in blazes happened to your face?"

With a start, Sirius realized that his ice pack was dangling rather uselessly from his left hand, and that the spot that had borne the brunt of Remus' considerable backhand had probably blossomed into a spectacular bruise. Thinking fast, not caring to divulge the details of earlier events until he'd sorted them out himself, he lied.

"Fell," he said airily. "Broke the fall with my face. Not one of my finer moments, let me tell you." Well, that part was true, at least. In other circumstances, James would not have been able to resist this chance to tease Sirius mercilessly. However, he let it slide, indicative of yet another marked change in James since his family had been targeted by Voldemort. Sirius turned to Lily again.

"Where's Harry?"

"Dumbledore said he'd look after him while we were here," Lily answered. "And this shouldn't take too long."

"A good thing, too," grumbled James. "Or else the kid'll be sucking on lemon drops for the rest of his life." Lily rolled her eyes and ignored him.

"We have…" Here, she hesitated. "That is to say, there's a huge favor we'd like to ask of you. Only it goes a fair bit beyond 'favor'. Quite a bit. More of a sacrifice, now that I think about it."

Sirius had no idea what she was talking about, but it didn't sound promising.

"What Lily's trying to say," James cut in, sensing Sirius' confusion, "is that Dumbledore may have found a way to keep Lily, Harry and me safe from Voldemort. An ancient charm-the Fidelius-that would take us out of sight from everybody; Dark Lord and Death Eaters included. Well," he amended, "not _exactly _everybody. That's where you come in." A pause. "There'd be one person, and one person only-the Secret-Keeper-who would know our location. Nobody would be able to find us unless the Secret-Keeper told them exactly where we were."

"And you," Sirius started thickly, "you want this-this Secret-Keeper to be me?" James nodded in affirmative.

"But we would completely understand if you refused," Lily burst out, "because it's terribly dangerous, and you would become an automatic target if you agreed, and we couldn't bear it if anything awful happened to you because of us. Dumbledore even offered to do it, but James and I thought we ought to at least ask you before any decisions were made." She was breathing very heavily, having said all of this extremely quickly.

Sirius, overwhelmed by the amount of trust that these two people so close to his heart had given him, almost couldn't find his voice to speak.

"Are you mad?" he croaked. "Course I'll do it. I'd do anything to protect you two and Harry, you know that." Sensing that Lily was uncomfortably close to tears, he swiftly brought up his next point. "But what will we tell Peter and Remus?"

The corners of James' mouth tightened.

"Remus back yet?" he asked almost too-casually. Sirius glanced at him suspiciously.

"Yes," he said slowly. "Just tonight."

"I see." James was still using that unconvincingly nonchalant tone. Lily shot him a glare that Sirius couldn't decipher.

"Where is he?" she inquired of Sirius. "Not out again already, is he?"

"No," Sirius said tensely. "No, he's not." Silence. "He's-well, he's taking a bit of a walk. Dumbledore was here earlier, and his visit made Moony a bit testy, so he decided to get some fresh air. I'm sure he'll be back soon." Sirius had gone for flippancy in his answer, but all he heard was strain.

"Bit dangerous to be going out on his own at night, isn't it?" James questioned.

"I suppose he wouldn't have left if he didn't feel like he could take care of himself," Sirius bit out coolly.

"Or if he didn't feel like he needed to," James retorted.

"I'm not sure I like what you're insinuating, Prongs," Sirius said, trying very carefully to keep the anger out of his voice.

"Tough," James shot back, making no such effort. "Don't you think that all of his long absences are getting a little bit, oh, suspicious?"

"James!" Lily exclaimed. "Please don't, oh, you promised me you wouldn't do this tonight, you _swore-_"

"No, let him go, Lily," Sirius cut her off sharply. "I'd really like to hear what he comes up with."

Pale, but determined to see this through to the end now that he'd started, James went on.

"Only that it wouldn't be a stretch to say that he hasn't been himself since he started running around with all those different werewolf packs. He's seemed-well, almost savage, if you want the truth of it. And all of Voldemort's promises might start to sound especially tempting after awhile, when you're cut off from all of your family and friends and only surrounded by other, bitter werewolves who don't quite share your outlook."

"Suicide started sounding especially tempting every bloody time that I had to listen to you gush about Lily here during school, but I resisted admirably," Sirius replied acidly.

"That isn't the same thing and you know it," James exclaimed, going a bit red. "When was the last time that Remus was around during a battle-" _that we know of,_ was the unspoken addition, "When was the last time that Remus was around at all?"

"He's been busy!" shouted Sirius back furiously, defending the things that he himself at vented at Remus about earlier in the night. "It's not exactly what you'd call easy, risking your life to try to convince other, more vicious werewolves to join the side of Light. It's not what you'd call quick work, either! We should be thankful that he's at least alive! He could've been mauled by now! Unless of course that's what you were hoping for," he sneered.

"That's enough!" Lily cried out, entering the fray. "Enough! Listen to the both of you! We don't have time for this right now! Sirius, all we wanted was to ask if you would be our Secret-Keeper, obviously you will, we can't thank you enough, now please James, I'd like to-"

"Maybe we should rethink this whole Secret-Keeper thing," James interrupted her, no longer shouting, voice deadly calm. "I-I'm not sure that I'm comfortable with it being Sirius after all."

Sirius laughed hollowly.

"What's wrong? Afraid I might sell you out to my Death Eater lover? Afraid we might just be a pair of spies, here to do the Dark Lord's bidding? Well fuck you, James."

"What in Merlin's name is going on here?" Remus had slipped in through the front door unnoticed at the tail end of the row, but it was clear from his bewildered manner that he hadn't really heard anything that was said. "James, Lily, what on earth are you-?" He stopped short, and stared at Sirius accusingly. "You called them, didn't you?"

All the relief that had welled up in Sirius at the sight of Remus alive and apparently well vanished at these words.

"What?!" he exclaimed, outraged. "You think I-"

"Did James and Lily have to come in to protect you from the big, bad werewolf?" Remus had, to his immense frustration, gained no inner serenity or insight during his impromptu walk. He knew that he was being irrational, but was too full of seething, simmering rage to care. "After all, scary old Moony _did_ hit you, and he's a bloody _monster,_ who _knows_ what he's capable of doing next!"

He was about to say more, but James, whose eyes went wide behind his glasses, beat him to the chase. He turned to Sirius, sputtering with indignation.

"I-_you told me you fell down!_" he hissed. "Broke your fall with your face-bollocks! Broke his fist's fall, more like!" Sirius avoided his glare.

Remus stared at his lover uncertainly.

"You didn't tell James what happened?" he asked a bit more harshly than he'd intended.

"I didn't think he needed to know," Sirius answered tiredly. Really, he just wanted to go to bed now. Wanted to crawl between the sheets with Remus, fall asleep and wake up in the morning with the realization that tonight had never happened.

Only right now he wasn't certain that he even wanted to be in the same room as Remus, much less snuggled up under the bedclothes with him.

"Didn't need to know?! Sirius-_he hit you!_ He walloped you across the face, and you're still willing to make shoddy excuses for why he couldn't _possibly _be-" Ignoring Sirius' mumblings about 'not being a bloody domestic case', James stopped just short of saying it, possibly not wanted to admit what he believed out loud, with Remus so very close by and volatile.

"Be what, James?" Remus asked acerbically. Underneath the irritation, he truly was curious. What could James be accusing him of-?

…_Dumbledore's talking…he reckons there's a spy in the Order…_

Oh. That.

He supposed that it really shouldn't surprise him.

"Been having a nice little chat about me, have we?" he asked with false pleasantry. "Are you all putting your heads together, then, finding dozens of reasons why I could be the snitch that everyone's looking for?"

"Remus-nobody really believes that you're-" Lily began soothingly, but Lupin paid her no heed.

"Oh, but I don't think that that's true," he said scathingly. "James does, doesn't he? It's all very convenient, yes? Blame your problems on the unpredictable and possibly dangerous werewolf. Did it take you even a little while to come to terms with that theory, Prongs?" He spat the nickname like it was a dirty word that he used as little as possible in his daily life.

"Of course it did," James said through clenched teeth. "I didn't want to THINK about it. But even you have to admit that your absences are getting longer and more frequent, and your behavior is-well, the last few times I've seen you you've been like a caged animal. And the spy has to be someone in our inner circle- no way would anyone else have the kind of information that the Death Eaters have otherwise-Merlin's beard, I don't WANT it to be you, Remus, but if it is…"

"Have you even bothered considering anyone else, James? Or did you convince yourself that it was me and wash your hands of the other possibilities?" Remus asked mutely. "What about Peter? Or…" He trailed off, fists clenched, face bloodless.

The silent allegation hung heavy in the air.

"_Thanks,_ Remus," Sirius sneered. "Your absolute faith in me could move mountains."

"Well if we're going to be absolutely _fair_ about it-"

"Shut up!" Sirius burst out. "Just shut up! I can't believe I was so bloody _daft-_I _defended _you-_"_

"Yeah, fantastic job there! It can't have been all that stirring, James' opinion clearly hasn't changed-"

"For all of your righteous indignation, you haven't actually _denied_ his accusations once, I see-"

"If we're playing that game, then you didn't deny _mine_ either-"

"Being that you didn't have the nerve to make any-"

"I didn't think I had to; after all, Death Eater runs in your family, doesn't it? How old was Regulus when he took the Mark, again?"

Mention of the other man's recently deceased brother had the desired effect; Sirius went white, and took a step back as though he'd been smacked (for the second time that night). He would never, ever show it, but the death of his younger sibling had hurt Sirius far more deeply than he let on, and Remus knew that.

As soon as the werewolf had said it, he had felt considerable remorse, but he couldn't take the words back now. Frankly, he was too angry to even want to apologize for the remark.

"Get out." The words sliced through the air with deadly precision, containing more hatred than Sirius had ever thought it possible to feel towards his lover.

"Excuse me?" Remus declared hotly. "I live here. It's my home too."

"That _I _pay for." It was a low blow, using against Remus the fact that he couldn't really contribute much financially because of his condition, but Sirius was completely beyond caring. He was seeing everything through a poisonous haze of red. "I don't want you here. I can't stand to even look at you right now. So _get out._"

"Where exactly to you propose I go?" Remus inquired disbelievingly. He wasn't _actually_ being kicked out…was he?

Sirius snapped.

"It doesn't matter!" He shouted. "I don't give a fuck where you end up! Go stay with your werewolf mates, for all I care! Just get out of my sight! Did you hear me?! LEAVE!"

"Sirius…" came a weak voice. It was Lily. She and James had stood in stunned silence as they watched the two men rip each other apart, but now she interceded. "Really, Sirius," she continued, gaining strength, "please, just think about this. You can't-" she faltered a bit "-you can't just send Remus out into the night. It's not safe for him. For anyone."

"It's all right, Lily," Remus said, contemptuously eyeing Sirius. "I don't know that I particularly feel like staying here a minute longer, anyways. I'd ask if I could kip on your sofa-" he smiled humorlessly, "-but I'm not sure James would appreciate that particular imposition."

The spectacled man remained stonily silent, but didn't break from Remus' gaze.

"Right, then," the werewolf said slowly, after a fashion. "Peter's it is." Stealing one last, indecipherable glance at Sirius, he Apparated out with a very loud, very final crack.

The quiet that fell over the room in the wake of his departure was nothing short of empty and depressing. Something had broken tonight; something was irrevocably damaged in a way that could never be completely mended.

Tense and shaken, Lily couldn't find it within herself to speak for several uncomfortable minutes.

"I hope you're both very pleased with yourselves," she said, voice quavering and several octaves higher than normal. "Because I think that-"

A slight, soft sound stilled her oncoming diatribe. Flummoxed as to what it was, she searched the room several times over for the source before she realized that it was the sound one makes-that hitch of breath-before they're about to burst into tears.

Her eyes were drawn to Sirius, who had sunk onto the couch without her noticing. He was now staring sightlessly at a point near Lily's feet, eyes glittering suspiciously. A single, crystalline drop escaped the lashes on one side, to wander aimlessly down his just-turned black and blue cheek before splashing into his lap.

Any ire that Lily had felt vanished in the face of this sad portrait. Stepping forward to offer whatever comfort that she thought she could, she was beaten to the chase by James, who had decided to stop impersonating a statue and strode up to the man he so often referred to as his brother. Stopping short, he gently lowered himself to the sofa and set a tentative arm around Sirius' shoulders.

The dam broke, along with the ice; Sirius all but dove into the James' comforting embrace, the vicious words between them forgotten as he clung to his best friend and cried out over two weeks and ten days' worth of emotional buildup. His body trembled and heaved with the force of the sobs. James held him tighter and mumbled soothing nonsense into his hair.

Lily was at a loss. She knew that her husband was capable of infinite tenderness; she witnessed it every time he cradled their baby son. And though she was aware that his brotherly affection for Sirius went deeper than any blood link could, the endurance of their bond had not fully struck her until now. Now, when she felt more like an intruder than she had when she'd first started dating James and met the reluctance of his three very close friends to accept her as a part of the group.

She had no idea what she could do; no clue as to how to contribute when it seemed that her contribution was unneeded.

Her discomfiture was not for long; Sirius seemed to gain a hold over himself after a short amount of time, soon drawing away from James, sniffing and swiping away the salty remnants of the last few minutes.

"Sorry," he said, voice husky with unshed tears.

"Don't apologize," Lily said with a fierceness even she couldn't have predicted. Startled, Sirius stared at her. "It's just-you haven't got any reason to," she continued in a much softer tone.

He offered her a tiny smile, then: a pale imitation of the million-wattage grin that could charm a goblin out of its treasure, but it was real, which gave Lily more satisfaction than she thought quite normal.

"Right then," James began awkwardly, "We should probably get going; I expect that by now Dumbledore has had long enough to get Harry addicted to as many sucking candies as he can think of, and I don't even want to think about what he'll start on next. The man enjoys Cockroach Clusters, for Merlin's sake."

"Listen, mate," Sirius said anxiously. "About this whole Secret-Keeper thing…"

James blanched.

"You can't think that I was serious about not making you ours; I was being thick, I don't really think that you're the spy!"

Sirius forced a reassuring smile.

"I know that, I do. It doesn't mean that you should make me your Secret-Keeper, though."

"What?! Sirius, we trust you-"

"But I don't trust myself," Sirius interrupted. "Look, I can't even begin to tell you what it means to me, having you both ask me to do it, but it wouldn't be a good idea. I'm not-" he grimaced "-I'm not in the greatest place right now, and I think that you need someone a little more stable at the moment. Anyways, I've got a different strategy. We set up a decoy system. Make it seem like I'm the Secret-Keeper, while actually using someone else. It'll throw Voldemort off your trail for at least a little while, and then maybe we can come up with a real plan."

"That's mad! Completely loony!" James exclaimed, waving his arms about.

"He's right, Sirius," Lily stated worriedly. "You'd be practically inviting danger to your front doorstep without even needing to."

"As opposed to it just lurking harmlessly in the streets?" Sirius asked wryly. "I'm in danger either way. At least with my idea, if the Death Eaters do capture me, I won't have to worry about letting slip information that could damn the both of you and Harry. I'd rather that be the case, in fact."

"It's just daft enough to work," James said helplessly. "But are you really sure that you want to do this, Sirius? And who would we use as the real Secret-Keeper? Peter?"

"No!" Sirius said with unexpected vehemence. James' eyes widened. "No," he repeated firmly. "If we're not trusting Remus, then we're not trusting Peter either."

"But-come on, Padfoot, d'you really think that Peter has…well…the _nerve_ to double-cross us?" the bespectacled man asked incredulously.

"Do you think he'd have the nerve to _resist_ double-crossing us if the Death Eaters came knocking?" Sirius countered. "Even if he didn't have what it took, James, could you really see Peter being able to keep that sort of information quiet under torture if the truth about who the Secret-Keeper really was ever came out?"

Lily had to admit that Sirius had a point. Peter possessed a well-intentioned heart, but he wasn't the most resilient of creatures. Evidently James had to concede as well, because he asked,

"If not Peter or you, then who?" Sirius raised an eyebrow.

"The safest, most trustworthy person we know. The person who offered to do it first."

James' eyes lit up with understanding.

"Ah. Dumbledore."

He would make an excellent Secret-Keeper, Lily knew. Storing important information with Albus would be like storing treasure in one of the locked vaults of Gringotts. And he was powerful enough that he would be more than able to take care of himself if their ruse was ever discovered.

"I think it could work, James," she offered softly. This seemed to be the affirmation James needed, for he nodded in agreement.

"It's decided, then. I'm not crazy about you putting yourself out there as a standing target, mate, but if you think you can handle it…" He trailed off. "I trust your judgment."

Sirius cleared his throat, and looked sheepishly down.

"Thank you." James stretched.

"All right, we'd best be off," he declared, yawning. Lily kissed Sirius on the cheek and hugged him.

"You have no idea what this means to us," she said sincerely. "Are you sure you're going to be okay tonight?"

"Of course," Sirius assured her, sounding anything but sure. The redhead smiled sympathetically, and gently touched his cheek.

"Take care." He smiled wanly.

"You too."

"If I see evidence of so much as one Cockroach Cluster in my house, I'm calling off this whole Secret-Keeper thing," James said threateningly as he and Lily Apparated out.

Alone at long last, Sirius dropped any and all bravado, collapsing once again onto the sofa in exhaustion and curling protectively around himself.

He couldn't even bear to face the big, empty bed tonight, knowing that Remus wasn't there-knowing that he was the _reason_ Remus wasn't there, and hating himself and his now ex-lover for what they'd done to each other.

He just wanted to rewind to right after Remus had come home, to the moment immediately preceding when Dumbledore had popped in and unwittingly set into motion events that would tear the werewolf and the Animagus asunder only hours later. In his mind he would tell the headmaster to shove off and bother somebody else about the bloody war, if just for the night.

In his heart, however, he knew he wasn't being fair. None of this was truly Dumbledore's fault; he and Remus had been falling apart before tonight in far more subtle and damaging ways. If it hadn't been now it would've been some other time, very likely soon; they had been a splinch waiting to happen.

Distantly, Sirius was aware of his bruised cheek throbbing dully. He touched his hand to it, and stared miserably up at the ceiling, wondering if Remus had made it alright to Peter's, or, if he had (Sirius thought with some shame) found some Death Eater comrades willing to put him up indefinitely.

It was going to be a damn long night.


End file.
